“Don’t do it,” Zoe rasped. “Don’t do anything he says.”
Eric jammed the gun into Zoe’s temple, and she let out a faint whimper.
Anthony glanced at Lauren, but his expression was impossible to read. Finally, his muscles loosened, and he raised his hands in surrender.
“Get the mics, get the guns, and get this mess cleaned up before the cops get here,” Eric demanded.
When Anthony didn’t move, Lauren started looking for a weapon. Who knew how far away the team was, or if they’d encounter resistance along theway. Eric had been prepared for them, but he hadn’t expected Anthony to switch sides.
Zach’s weapon. She remembered the pistol was strapped to his ankle. With Eric’s attention on Anthony, she slowly reached for the gun.
“I said, get this mess cleaned up!” Eric shouted.
She slowly unclasped the holster and slid out the gun. It was heavy in her hands, and she recalled the training from the last few days.
“You’ve got five seconds to move,” Eric snarled.
The cops weren’t here yet. Anthony was out of time, Zoe had a gun to her head, and Zach…
She’d had one day of gun safety training and one lesson of target practice. Neither of those had prepared her for use under pressure.
Lauren used her knee to press the sheet firmer against Zach’s wound and aimed the barrel of the gun at Eric’s side. Her hands shook as she gripped the handle tighter, hoping and praying to steady it.
She took Anthony’s last second to aim before squeezing the trigger.
46
Lauren
Lauren stared at the open book in her lap, but her gaze kept lifting to where Zach lay in the hospital bed. Nothing could hold her attention like the unconscious man in front of her.
Camille Harding slumped, eyes closed in the chair by the window. One arm was bent and tucked behind her head, and her laptop bag was propped against the couch at her feet.
Lauren’s chest swelled just thinking of all her friend had done in the last twenty-four hours. Not only was Camille a great boss at Blackwater Hope House, but she was a cutthroat attorney who’d shown off her intelligence and professionalism like she ate rookie lawyers for breakfast.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Lauren closed the book and stuffed it into the backpack beside her. “Come in.”
Zach’s room had been a revolving door of visitorssince he came out of surgery. Before he’d been assigned a room, meetings and interviews had been conducted in the waiting room.
The door opened, and Zoe poked her head inside. Her voice was low and timid as she whispered, “Hey.”
Lauren sat up straighter. “Hey. Come on in.”
Zoe entered with a paper coffee cup in her hand and glanced at Zach. “He hasn’t woken up?”
The panic clawed at Lauren’s rib cage. “The doctor said it might take a while, but…no, not yet.” Every second he remained unconscious, the band around her neck tightened.
Zoe handed Lauren the paper cup as Anthony walked in and silently closed the door behind him.
“Thank you,” Lauren said as she accepted the cup.
Anthony pushed his hands into his pockets, rounding his shoulders forward. Seeing him in person still held the remnants of a dream. After years of searching for him, he was finally here. He had the same dark hair and dark green eyes, but his features were hardened. Life had taken its toll on him since the last time she saw him.
Zoe tucked her dark bob behind one ear and lowered onto a seat beside Lauren. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay. How did things go?” She couldn’t focus on herself. Zoe and Anthony had been at the police station all morning for questioning. Lauren had been a part of multiple interrogations over the last twenty-four hours as well.
Zoe shrugged her thin shoulders. “Fine, I guess.” She glanced at Camille. “I’m glad she sent Bob. I didn’t know we were going to need an attorney, but it was great to have someone there.”
